Lo and Behold
by Dekora
Summary: CURRENTLY DISCONTINUED. Malik Ishtar begins working as an intern for a prestigious law firm. His boss? Bakura. Thiefshipping. Psychoshipping. Etc.
1. First Case

**Lo and Behold**  
written by Your Darling Mana

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.

First Case

Staring up at the tall building before him, Malik felt his stomach flip nervously. He should have expected the first-job jitters and yet, now that he was here, facing the building that would practically own his life for the next few months, everything seemed all the more worrisome. It wasn't even really a job considering he was just an intern but still. These were people who would be writing his college recommendations when that time came (and sadly, it was quickly approaching). He had to leave a good impression.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the front door and stepped inside, feet tapping softly on the marble floor. The building was well furnished though he probably should have expected that; thanks to Isis he'd been able to get in with the finest law firm on this side of New York City. Approaching the front desk, he smiled at the receptionist, a blonde woman dressed in a violet business suit. "Er, hello," he greeted, realizing that he wasn't entirely sure what he should say. The building was gigantic; he wasn't even sure what floor he should be heading to. "I'm Malik Ishtar. I'm starting as an intern today and--"

She held up her finger, cutting him off. Flashing him her own smile, slightly sultry in appearance, she informed him, "Head to floor twelve."

Resisting the urge to snap at her (she could have returned the hello, right?), Malik nodded politely and moved off in the direction of the elevator. The contraption moved surprisingly quickly for such a tall building and Malik was on the twelfth floor in no time, the elevator doors opening with a ding. He started to get off before pausing as he noticed someone in front of the door.

The person before him obviously didn't notice him in time, bumping into him, a bag of food falling from his arms. The boy in question was a paler teen with strange silver hair that reached down to his back. "Eee, I'm really sorry!" came his quick apology, wide brown eyes looking up at Malik. Kneeling down, he gathered the bag, as well as a few spilled cream puffs. "I'm really clumsy and I guess I was distracted and I just wasn't looking and--"

"It's fine," Malik cut him off, trying to hide his irritation. This wasn't exactly how he wanted to start his first day of work.

The boy gave a sigh that could easily have been considered exasperated. To his luck, Malik had stopped in the doorway, so the elevator hadn't left. Bowing his head, he repeated, "I'm sorry, though," before moving past the other and stepping into the elevator. Moving out of the way, Malik gave a small sigh of relief as the doors shut.

A hand on his shoulder caused him to jump and he turned around, looking up at a man that had to be related to the boy he'd just bumped into. "I see you've met my younger brother," he remarked, a sly smirk on his lips. "No need to worry though; he doesn't stop by often."

Malik chuckled nervously. He'd never been comfortable around siblings, probably due to the fact that he had trouble with his own. Well, one of his own. He got along with both Isis and Rishid easily enough but his elder brother? He wasn't sure they were even still on speaking terms.

"You must be the new intern?" The hand left his shoulder which caused Malik to relax some. "Mm, pity, I was hoping for a girl." The man winked at him jokingly before extending his hand. "Bakura. You'll be, more or less, working for me."

Shaking the other's hand, Malik forced a smile yet again. "Yes, I'm Malik," he introduced himself, attempting to sound more confident than he was feeling at the moment. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

Bakura chuckled, shaking his head. "Whatever you say, kid," he replied, motioning to the right in the direction of the file cabinet. "There are some papers there. Sort them by the names on top. Alphabetical order. I'm sure you know the drill."

Work already? Malik wanted to protest. Shouldn't someone show him what to do? Sure, filing was an easy job but if he messed something up, it could end up screwing over a lot of people. Sighing lightly, he nodded and headed over to the filing cabinet. Oh well, right? It's not like it would be his head on the chopping block in the end.

He barely paid attention to Bakura walking back into his office, looking down at the papers instead. The drawers were labeled simply enough, each with their own letter (or two to three in some cases). His phone vibrated in his pocket, probably Anzu wanting to check up on how his job was going. She worked herself but even so, she always managed to find time to text him. He had to wonder if her boss was clueless. Then again, at the moment, he probably could have answered without anyone complaining.

Were all jobs this boring?

Flipping through the names, Malik carefully put the papers away, pausing every now and then to make sure he hadn't misread something. He'd screw up eventually, he could feel it. He'd been working a good hour or so when he spotted his own name. Pausing, he examined the folder more closely. He shouldn't have a file here, should he? Or were these employee--

No, it wasn't his name at all. Ishtar, Marik. His brother? Why? And why was it out on the table today like he'd been there recently? Gut instinct told Malik he didn't want to know and he should just file the folder, keeping any and all questions to himself. Yet, this was his brother. Marik had been on the other side of the law before. Multiple times, really. He'd been deemed criminally insane at one point though after a few years of hospitalization, they'd declared him healthy enough to function normally.

This, however, clearly wasn't normal. Drumming his fingers on the side of the folder, Malik pondered opening it. This was a law office, so technically, he could get in some pretty huge trouble if he went around snooping through files. Besides, it could be something as tiny as a traffic violation, right?

Well, except that Marik didn't drive.

"Is there a problem?" The voice startled Malik and he almost dropped the file. Quickly shaking his head, he filed it away, looking over his shoulder at the man who was speaking to him. Bakura.

"Not at all," he replied, sounding far more cheerful than he was feeling. Why was he worried? Marik wasn't his problem, right? Family but there were plenty of things thicker than blood. "I just zoned out, I guess."

Bakura nodded slowly, one eyebrow raised, giving Malik the feeling that he didn't believe him. "You almost done with those?" He moved to take a seat on the desk, leaning back slightly.

"... Close enough," Malik muttered in response. "Why?"

"Curiosity," Bakura replied simply, smirking at the other. "You want to go grab a coffee with me?"

Malik's heart skipped a beat, the fluttery feeling catching him off-guard. Grab coffee? That sounded remarkably like a date and this was his boss (_new_ boss to be specific), who had to be gods-knew-how-many years older than him. Then again, perhaps it was just Malik's ego getting the best of him and making him interpret the question like that. "Sure, I guess so."

Bakura gave a small nod of approval before sliding off the desk, stretching his arms above his head. "Good because today has been fucking miserable," he commented, motioning for Malik to drop everything and follow him.

Setting the rest of the files down on the desktop, Malik followed after Bakura, "Oh?" He didn't know what 'miserable' meant in a setting like this. At school, it was usually having homework piled on top of you to the point you had no extra breathing time (which thankfully, hadn't happened today).

"Oh," Bakura replied as if he wasn't going to add any more insight. Grabbing his trench-coat off the coat-rack, he slid into it, not bothering to button it up. Malik couldn't help but wonder why he was wearing it at all; it was only mid-August. The outside temperature was actually nice for a change. Pressing the down arrow for the elevator, Bakura looked over to Malik, brown eyes running over the other's form.

Malik wasn't entirely oblivious to the other's gaze, a light blush (barely noticeable on his dark skin) gracing his cheeks. Bakura was an attractive man; Malik had noticed that first thing. Still, he wouldn't go after a kid, would he? Persuading himself that it was once again his ego putting such thoughts into his mind, he managed to keep a rather calm outward appearance.

A loud ding informed them both that the elevator had arrived. Malik was slightly surprised when Bakura didn't wait for him to enter first, moving over to the control panel and hitting the button for the first floor. Following suit, Malik moved to lean back against the elevator wall, hands gripping the handrail. It only then occurred to him that they hadn't spoken after the conclusive 'oh'. "Where are we going?"

Bakura looked over his shoulder at the boy, looking amused. "For coffee," he answered matter-of-factly, tone suggesting just how ridiculous Malik's question had been.

"That's a why, not a where," Malik replied, violet eyes locking with the other's brown.

Chuckling, Bakura looked up to the top of the elevator. Fifth floor, just a few more to go. "Point taken." He didn't say anything more, waiting for the elevator to reach the bottom floor before exiting, pausing a few steps from the door and waiting for Malik.

With a frustrated sigh, Malik caught up to him, hands moving to rest in his pockets. He still didn't know _where_ they were going. Sure, it wasn't that important but he hated the way Bakura seemed to be avoiding the question. Was it just to grate against his nerves?

As they walked outside, the sunlight seemed to calm Malik's nerves and he let his previous frustration die down. It was actually difficult to keep up with Bakura; the other took long, quick strides, darting in between people to get where he was going more quickly.

Bakura ducked into a cafe, holding the door open for Malik. After thanking his boss, Malik stepped inside and paused, violet eyes falling on one of the waiters carrying a tray of drinks to a table. _Marik_. This couldn't be just coincidence, but seriously, what the hell was Bakura trying to do?

End First Case

**End Note:** I apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes. I didn't have a beta reader and if you write yourself, you understand how hard it is to catch your own mistakes. Anyways, thank you very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed and... well, hopefully, I update the next chapter eventually.


	2. Second Case

**Lo and Behold**  
written by Your Darling Mana

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.  
**Author's Note: **Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed! Sorry for the inconsistency of my updates. Life's been hectic lately, but I don't plan to abandon any (of my two? haa) stories any time soon.

Second Case

Malik had never understood how Marik could be a waiter. Marik was anything but a people person and yet, he'd kept his job here for quite some time. A chill ran down the young Egyptian's spine as he watched his brother hand a couple their beverages, flashing them a smile, even_laughing_. Was he the only one here who found his brother's laugh malicious? It was so sadistic, so taunting, as if he so obviously looked down at who he was laughing at (and he was laughing _at_ them, he never laughed with anyone). Malik had almost turned to ask to go elsewhere when Marik's eyes met his, causing the younger Egyptian to shudder involuntarily. Marik flashed him a smirk and Malik would have sworn that he caught a glimmer of the other's fangs.

Bakura had moved past him now, selecting a high table that lined the right wall. He made no motion for Malik to follow him (the kid could figure that out himself, couldn't he?), climbing onto one of the high chairs. He glanced back at Malik, seeming to smile at the hesitation the other had before following and taking the seat across from Bakura.

"You look nervous," Bakura chuckled. "What's so bad about going out for coffee with your new boss?" He placed his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his folded hands. The position made the paler man look like he was studying Malik, only adding to the Egyptian's discomfort.

Frowning, Malik murmured, "I'm not nervous. I just--" Contradicting his statement, he jumped as a hand clamped down on his shoulder. The hot breath on the back of his neck quickly led him to figure out who it was. "M-Marik..."

"Stop stuttering," came the other's harsh demand as he nuzzled against Malik's ear for a moment before pulling back, a harsh smirk on his lips. (Had it ever left? Malik severely doubted it; his brother was probably taking pleasure in how easily upset he was.) "It makes you look like an idiot."

Scoffing slightly (refusing to be embarrassed fully by his brother, especially in front of his 'new boss'), "I feel like an idiot, too. Thank you, Marik. I truly appreciate it."

"Mm, if I didn't know better, I'd say you knew each other," Bakura spoke up, grinning up at Marik. "You'll never believe who my new intern is! He waltzed into my office this afternoon and I just _had_ to show him off to you."

Great. With the way Bakura was talking, that meant that he really did know Marik, and probably not just on a professional level. Sinking down into his chair, Malik tried to keep his expression neutral. Marik couldn't stay and chat long, could he? He was working. _Go back to work, psycho._

"It would appear that way," Marik chuckled, tongue running over his upper lip as he set his hand on the tabletop, fingers tapping against the surface. "You'd think you would have been intelligent enough to check who was coming to work for you _before_ they walked in the door. I constantly overestimate you, _Bakura_." He glanced down, briefly, to the white pad in his hand. "Did you actually come for a drink or are you just here to flirt with me?"

Flirt? Gods, Malik's luck was miserable. There was something bad enough about people who _got along_ with his brother, but to be interested in him in _that_ manner? What kind of boss did Malik have, now? What if he was as crazy as Marik? School and work were supposed to be an escape from home, not a replica of the exact same situations.

"I came for a drink," Bakura snorted, motioning to Malik. "Why would I flirt with you when I have such a pretty boy out on a _date_ with me?" The statement was sarcastic, _had_ to be sarcastic. How could Bakura even jokingly call it a date? (And Malik couldn't lie -- at first, he'd hoped that Bakura would be attracted to him, at least on a physical level, even if he had pushed it aside as an egotistical desire.) Malik was his employee, for one. That just...

Well, it would have been fine if he hadn't known Marik. Maybe even if he knew him and despised him. Then they could have despised him together and everything would have worked out perfectly.

"Mm, the usual?" Marik replied, as if he was ignoring the date comment all together. He didn't appear uncomfortable (and Malik was carefully examining his brother, trying to find some hint of weakness).

Bakura nodded, "But of course."

Marik gave a small grunt of acknowledgment before turning around to head off to get the drink. "Hey!" Malik was surprised that he actually sounded upset. "Yo-you didn't take my order." It would have been better to sound angry than to stutter, really.

Marik didn't bother to turn back. "Water. You always drink water."

Oh, right. Malik frowned, "Fine, but... I could have wanted something else." Gods, how childish did he sound? Watching as his brother disappeared through the back door, he gave a small sigh. "Sorry," he muttered, as if he was the one who should apologize. Bakura was the one who had done something wrong, wasn't he? Putting Malik in this situation, _knowing_ how Malik would react (or at least, Malik assumed he knew how he would react). It was hard to believe that Bakura could know Marik without knowing that Marik would make any sane person incredibly uncomfortable.

Bakura had an amused expression on his face which only added to Malik's suspicions that the other was putting him through this torture on purpose. "You don't get along, I take it?" he inquired, tone smooth. It almost sounded as if he was trying to apologize, though Malik wasn't about to buy it.

Malik shook his head, frown deepening for a moment before he sighed. "No." He left it at that, short and simple. Explaining anything else would have taken years.

"You'll have to forgive me, then," Bakura commented, leaning forward to brush Malik's bangs from his eyes. "I should have warned you that he worked here. It's the closest cafe, so it's the one I usually visit."

Though the gentle gesture startled Malik, the Egyptian began to relax. Maybe Bakura really hadn't known... How could he assume they didn't get along? Maybe he honestly thought it would be okay. (Hadn't Malik just told himself he wasn't going to buy it?) "I-I do," Malik murmured. "You didn't know." Then he paused before adding, "You shouldn't have called it a date."

Bakura flashed him a small smile, hand retreating. "What? You don't like that idea?"

That statement made Malik's heart skip a beat. W-wait, what? He'd just managed to convince himself that it was his ego that had made him think Bakura was interested in him, and yet, now, it was sounding as if Bakura really _was_. But what kind of professional would take out his new employee on the first day? Sure, Malik had watched those silly law shows where the lawyers slept with everyone in the building but that wasn't real life. That was drama made for television.

"I-I..." He kept stuttering. Damnit. Now that Marik had mentioned it, he was all the more aware of the action. It was the one reaction to nerves that he was constantly harassed for, usually by Marik. The elder brother had drilled it into his head that stuttering was a sign of weakness, that Malik should always be clear and precise with his words. "I just started working for you?" It came out as a question, though really, it shouldn't have.

Chuckling, Bakura shrugged his shoulders. "And I wanted to get to know you better," he replied. "I think a date is an excellent way to do just that, don't you?"

Malik should have just said no. Even he knew that. He should have denied that it was a date, made it clear that he didn't think it was acceptable. The issue there was that he wasn't entirely against the idea. He had never been one to follow rules and really, if Bakura wanted it, too, where was the harm? Had it not been for Marik, he would probably have no qualms with the matter at hand at all. "Maybe," he answered uneasily.

His answers seemed to do nothing but amuse Bakura further. Bakura's chuckle felt almost as malicious as Marik's laughter -- _almost_. It was pretty hard to top a laugh that could chill Malik to the bone instantly. Malik was actually glad that Bakura didn't get a chance to respond to that. Marik had returned, setting down a chocolate mocha in front of Bakura and a water for Malik.

"How's your first day going?" The remark caught Malik off guard; was Marik actually pretending to care? It was a rare gesture and it usually had some underlying motive. Never safe. Marik was never safe.

Carefully, Malik responded, "Interestingly." That was the truth, wasn't it? He'd been sent to work right away, only to find his brother's file, asked out by his new boss (that had to be illegal), and dragged to the place where his brother worked. All of those things were related. He knew they were but he wanted to pretend that wasn't true, pretend that they were all lovely little coincidences.

"Wonderful." That was all his brother said before he moved along to another table, flashing that disgustingly charming grin and taking their orders.

"How do you know him?" Malik had to ask. He couldn't even 'pretend' he was on a date with Bakura until he knew.

Bakura gave him a quizzical look, as if he didn't understand why Malik was asking. "He uses our firm," came Bakura's solid answer as he took a sip of his mocha, "and he's always working when I take my coffee break."

... That made sense. It was harmless enough, wasn't it? Malik just wanted to relax, to buy into this whole thing and enjoy himself. It was possible. It had to be. Nodding, he smiled at Bakura, "Sorry, we just really don't get along."

"And I've already apologized for that," Bakura pointed out. That was true and Malik gave a soft nod, obviously embarrassed (how could he have made such a big deal out of this?), and took a drink of his water. "Do you think you can have a nice afternoon out with your boss now?"

Malik smiled at that before replying, "Yes, I do." Then, offering a small chuckle, he inquired, "This is a date, you said?"

"I did say that," Bakura grinned. "So Malik, I know your family, but what about _you_? What kinds of things do you enjoy?"

Malik scrunched his nose up, teasing, "Way to be totally generic." Shrugging his shoulders, taking a quick drink, he answered, "Reading, I guess? And, as unimpressive it must be to a boss, clubbing." Hey, he was an intern. It wasn't like he was getting paid. "What about you?"

"Getting criminals back on the street," Bakura replied, flashing Malik a charming smirk.

Malik snorted. "And, clearly, dating your younger employees."

"Mm, how could I not? You're really quite attractive." Bakura took another drink from his mocha, leaning back in his seat. "Maybe I'm a bit of a lecher."

Malik licked some excess water off of his lip before chuckling slightly, "Mm, great. I've truly found myself a winner, haven't I?"

"The best, I assure you," Bakura replied, a confident smirk on his lips. Finishing off his mocha, he glanced at Malik. "Are you done?"

"That was a short date," Malik commented, though he quickly finished off his water.

Bakura chuckled, "It has to be, I'm afraid. I've still got work I need to do." Tossing down a twenty on the table, he stood up, and motioned for Malik to follow. Obeying (and wondering why Bakura had paid _that_ much), Malik slipped down from his seat as well. "Why don't you run on ahead?"

"Huh?" Malik questioned, giving Bakura a skeptical look.

"Run on back to the firm and get back to what you were doing. I'll be there in a minute or two." It was enough of a demand that Malik just nodded and ran ahead. Bakura waited a moment before turning around, none too surprised that Marik approached him. The expression in Marik's face was none too friendly, though if what Malik said was true about them not getting along, Bakura had expected that much. "You're absolutely stunning when you're angry," he commented dryly.

Marik gave a quick glance over his shoulder before grabbing Bakura's arm and dragging him back to a more secluded area. "What game are you playing, Bakura?" He'd moved close to Bakura, hand sliding down to Bakura's wrist (though not his hand), face only inches from the other's.

"Game?" Bakura's lips curved into a dark smirk. "Marik, I'm not playing any game. I'm just having a little fun with my new employee." He shifted his hand, lacing his finger's with the taller man's. "You're so possessive for a pet." Closing the distance between the two, he gave Marik a small kiss, nibbling playfully on the other's lip.

Mewling softly, Marik's tongue slid out between the part in his lips, lapping at Bakura's mouth. "You're trying to play mind games with one of us, Bakura, and I'm not particularly enjoying it." He twisted Bakura's hand slightly, digging his nails into the back of the other's hand.

"Of course you aren't," Bakura grinned, taking Marik's tongue into his mouth for a moment before pulling back. "You prefer the sort of torture people can feel, physically and to their very core. I'm too _soft_ for your tastes and yet, here you are, all over me."

Letting go of Bakura's hand and turning back around, Marik's reply was simply, "I'll see you tomorrow, won't I?"

Rubbing his hand for a moment (Marik had actually managed to draw blood), Bakura chuckled, "I can't stay away." He moved past Marik, heading for the door. "Have a good afternoon, Marik."

"Don't trip on your way out."

End Second Case


	3. Third Case

**Lo and Behold**  
written by Your Darling Mana  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.

**Author's Note: **;o; People don't review nearly as much as they did before. (Or maybe my writing is that bad, haa! ... what, ego?) Anyways, I have a really bad cold/flu/random ailment and I know how much my readers care about my personal health. ; o ; (Haha.)

Third Case

Collapsing on the leather couch of his living room, Malik couldn't be more elated to be home. The rest of his afternoon certainly hadn't been bad, but Bakura had hurried back to work. It was probably foolish, but Malik had been disappointed. He'd wanted to speak just a little more with his boss that had acted on such a crazy whim and asked him out. Filing seemed like such a mindless task that Malik had found plenty of time to think and even more time to convince himself that Bakura's relationship with Marik had to be harmless. That aside, Malik wasn't used to working (even if it was mindless) for the entire day. Since he was young, he'd always had the luxury of coming home and doing whatever he wanted after school. He was beginning to understand why Isis always seemed exhausted when she got home in the evenings.

"Are you alright, Malik?"

Leaning back, trying to stare up at his half-brother who was currently behind the couch (and in the kitchen), Malik flashed the other a grin. "I'm fine, just tired." The temptation to tell Rishid that he'd run into Marik on his first day of work swelled up but he pushed it down. It wasn't important. Oh, how desperately he wanted to believe that it wasn't important. "Then again, I still have homework to do, so maybe I'm not fine." He scrunched up his nose before adding, "Make me some brownies."

Malik had always been spoiled when it came to Rishid and the younger Egyptian had a bad habit of exploiting that. Fumbling for the remote, he realized that his phone was once against vibrating in his pocket. Ah, that's right! He'd promised to tell Anzu how his first day of work was gone. Reaching into his pocket, he sent a quick text message, '_it went great! tell you about it tomorrow; so exhausted right now!_' That done, he switched his phone to silent and tossed it on to the end table. Best friend or not, he wasn't going to hold a conversation with Anzu right now.

It was time to kick back, relax, and watch some shitty television. He didn't have time to worry about updating a friend on his exciting, new life (and that was sarcastic, date with his boss or not). As soon as the television clicked on, the front door opened and by the way the shoes were kicked off behind him, he knew that it wasn't his sister that had gotten home early. Swallowing, he told himself that as long as he just didn't turn around, Marik would leave him be. He heard the other's jacket tossed over the chair to the right and damnit, the cushion sank in. By the time the remote was grabbed from his hand, Malik knew ignoring Marik wasn't going to work.

"Good evening." Marik's voice was always so calm, suave. It was one thing Malik hated about his brother; _nothing_ seemed to upset him.

Looking over to him, (he wouldn't be intimidated; Rishid was making brownies and somehow, that made him all the stronger) Malik forced a small smile. "Good evening, Marik. How was your day?"

"Wonderful," came the sarcastic answer as his brother flipped through the channels. "I had a customer spill coffee all over themselves and throw a fit and I had to act like... well, for one, I didn't enjoy the pained expression that crossed their face when they were burned, and two, like I was apologetic."

Enjoyed the pain of something as simple as watching someone get a coffee burn? How did anyone tolerate this man? "How miserable," Malik agreed, equally sarcastic. "I went to school, filed papers..." For the first time, Malik seemed to recall seeing Marik's file. "... Di--" Did he want to ask? It was one of those things he probably didn't want to know, and quite possibly, one of those things that would piss Marik off.

"Di--? Don't stutter, it makes me want to rip out your vocal chord," Marik responded. "You're not using it correctly as it is. It wouldn't be a large loss, would it?" He chuckled lowly and Malik sunk down in his seat.

He wished, now, that he could use seeing his brother's file as blackmail. He really should have read it! There was undoubtedly something in it that he could have used, right? "Fine, fine," Malik muttered, forcing himself to regain composure. You had to with Marik or you ended up looking like a fool. "Did you visit the office today? I found your file among those that had stopped by."

Marik cocked an eyebrow at that. "Yes, I did." When Malik looked over to him expectantly, Marik chuckled, moving to run his finger over Malik's cheek. "You didn't ask for a further explanation so I don't feel any need to give one. Want to suck on my finger?"

... What the hell, Marik, really. Malik tried to pull away, wondering what exactly was wrong with his brother. Not only did he enjoy the idea of seeing someone else in pain, he didn't seem to understand the boundary among siblings. "I'm not sucking on your finger."

"Why not?" Marik licked his top lip hungrily. "It's not breaking any rules, is it? It's just you sucking harmlessly on my finger."

"You're sick," Malik mumbled, before adding, "and trying to change the topic. Why were you there? Is Bakura your lawyer?"

"Yes, Bakura is my lawyer," Marik replied simply, though he still didn't answer Malik's other question. Standing up, he stretched slightly before inquiring, "What time will sister-dearest be home?"

Malik gave the other a skeptical glance. As much as he wanted to press into the topic, he had a feeling that pestering his brother about it would only end in a fight (verbal or physical, both of which Malik was sure he would lose). "Around seven, I assume," he replied, "the same time that _you_ usually show up. Why are you home early?" Had Marik not handled the coffee incident as well as he had implied?

"I was the only one who showed up this morning and worked the entire day, which, if you can calculate, is two shifts, and my boss felt bad for me, so she let me go home early," Marik answered. "Dinner will be done about that time?"

"I guess so?" Malik offered weakly.

Marik nodded at him before telling him, "I'll be in my room then. Don't bother me." With that, he walked off, disappearing down the hallway, much to his younger brother's relief.

"Never do," Malik muttered to himself, sinking back into the couch, taking the remote that Marik had casually tossed aside. It was amazing how uncomfortable the atmosphere became once his brother got home. It was a blessing that when he came home (if he came home), he ate and either left again or shut himself back in his room. Obviously, Malik preferred him leaving, figuring it was better that the world deal with Marik than he deal with him.

_Mid-Case_

"I've got dinner on the stove!" was Bakura's greeting as the silver-haired male stepped in through the door, sliding out of his trench coat and hanging it up on the coat rack by the door. Kicking off his shoes and prodding them into a straight line, Bakura stretched for a moment before walking through the foyer and into the kitchen. Peeking into the kitchen, he raised an eyebrow at Ryou before commenting, "You're like a housewife."

Scrunching up his nose in disdain, Ryou replied, "Well, if I didn't cook, who would?" Stirring at the soup on the stove, he glanced over his shoulder at Bakura, "And you're the adult here. Shouldn't you be taking care of me?"

"I am," Bakura snorted. "I'm working my ass off every day while you sit comfortably in your little art school." Whatever had made Ryou decide to go for an art degree baffled Bakura, though the older of the two had always felt the need to follow in his mother's footsteps. She'd established quite the law firm before her passing and Bakura certainly wasn't going to let that fall to its knees, particularly because it provided such a comfortable living.

"You say that," Ryou chuckled, "but I have my doubts. Anyways, no point in arguing over our lifestyles. How was your day?"

"Miserable, I suppose," Bakura answered, moving to sit down at the kitchen table. "I did get to meet my new intern, so at least my afternoons will be interesting." He laughed softly at that.

Ryou frowned at that, turning back to his soup, and examining the chicken on the stove near him. "One more person for you to lead along, I guess," he mumbled, "although, now you're dipping your feet into something illegal."

"I am the law," Bakura scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "Besides, all I did was take the kid out on a small date and buy him a cup of coffee."

"Well," Ryou murmured, "he was a cutie..." His eyes widened and he set the spoon down on a towel nearby, as not to make a mess. Turning back around, he bit his lip, "I'm getting so old. It'd be illegal for me, now, too." Nineteen wasn't that old, really, but he was still to old for a kid who was sixteen or seventeen. "That's actually kind of depressing."

"Age is just a number," Bakura chuckled. "You shouldn't be so uptight."

"Shouldn't be," Ryou agreed, "but am. One of us has to be." He glanced briefly at the dinner before looking to Bakura, "It's almost done so just move it off the stove when it's finished. I want to go put on my pajamas." Why he needed to state that, he wasn't sure. He was uncomfortable, dangit, so he was going to change. Now, all he had to do was hope Bakura didn't purposely burn dinner.

End Third Case

**End Note:** This chapter basically just established some relationships and ages. I figure I'll throw in a bit more of an explanation here, age-wise, simply because I'm not sure what's been stated. If it hasn't been, it will be in-story later, but here you go. Malik - 17, Ryou - 19, Isis - 21, Marik -23, Rishid - 26, Bakura - Really flipping old. I mean, 28.

I need to research when you actually get out of law school. I know I have a cousin that went through it, and they're around 25, but... Hmm.

But, hope you enjoy reading! And hope you love this randomly long note at the end of the story. But how could you not!


	4. Fourth Case

**Lo and Behold**  
written by Your Darling Mana

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.  
**Author's Note: **Look how sick you all are, all finding Marik hitting on his brother hot. Pssht. (But you're right, Cecilia, I'll never be able to not write bronzeshipping. DX! ... Not that I'm writing bronzeshipping in here anywhere or anything.)

Fourth Case

Day two. Staring up at the tall building where he now worked, Malik once again studied it with contempt. He'd survived the first day, and the second couldn't get much worse. Still, his feet seemed glued to the ground, violet eyes settled hesitantly on the door.

"Impressive architecture," came the smooth comment as he felt a hand press lightly against his back, urging him forward. Glancing over his shoulder, the Egyptian teen realized that it was none other than his boss, and that clearly, the previous comment had been sarcastic. "We're not going to get anywhere out here, regretfully, so you might as well join me inside, hmm?"

"Can you blame me for not wanting to work right away?" Malik chuckled, pleased with himself for coming up with an excuse (because in actuality, he had none). "School was lousy enough today, and now I have to sort through all of your papers." He scrunched his nose up in disgust, though his expression quickly turned to mild surprise when Bakura held the door open for him. It wasn't even like Bakura had never held the door open for him before. Bakura had always been polite, in the strange sort of way that his brother usually--

Ah, that was why it felt so awkward.

Bakura laughed, waiting before Malik entered the building before letting the door close behind him. "No, not at all. Quite honestly, I never start out my days working."

Was that even something he should confess to an intern? Malik really didn't understand his boss at all. "Oh?" he inquired, chuckling softly, trying to match the other's laugh to at least make it feel comfortable. "Then how do you start your day."

"... with vodka." The answer was so nonchalant, it actually caught Malik off-guard. The business was Bakura's, so Malik supposed he could make his own rules, but really, drinking that early in the morning? Then again, the man had also hit on his new, definitely illegal employee the day he'd started working. Clearly, Bakura didn't exactly play by the rules.

"Got any for me?" Malik teased as they stepped into the elevator. He moved to lean up against the back wall, hands resting on the railing.

Bakura smirked, "Mm, how horrible would it look if I lured a young employee into my office with alcohol?" He hit the stop button on the elevator, causing it to screech to a halt. "I usually lure them in with something else."

At that, Malik's eyes widened. "You're really just a pervert, aren't you?" he blurted out. That much should have been screamingly obvious since day one, with the way he'd been all too willing to jump on Malik with no reservations at all. It almost brought Malik's ego down; he liked to pretend that while his body was attractive, he had a little more going for him.

"Who? Me?" Bakura snickered, stretching his arms up above his head for a moment, as if he'd been doing nothing but relaxing. "With the way you were checking me out, I had to get ideas."

Malik rolled his eyes, moving past Bakura and hitting the start button on the elevator. "Fuck you," he mumbled. "I'm not a toy for you to play with." The second statement was spoken louder, more clearly so he knew Bakura would hear.

"You were all so willing yesterday," Bakura chuckled, though he didn't move to chase after Malik. "Why such a change of heart?"

"Flirting with an employee and using them entirely for sex are two totally different things," Malik snapped, just before the elevator door opened. He hurried out, though that didn't really get him away from Bakura. The man was his boss; he had to actually listen to him.

"What a pity," Bakura laughed, shaking his head as he walked past the other. "I'm just _so_ sorry you read me all wrong and thought I was actually interested in--" And he cut off his sentence immediately when he locked eyes with the man standing by his secretary's desk. "Marik."

That name made Malik forget completely about the small argument he'd been having with Bakura and his eyes locked with his brother's. Marik, thankfully, didn't speak to him and instead spoke directly to his lawyer, "You're late."

"Am I?" Bakura asked, raising an eyebrow. "I wasn't reminded that we had a meeting." With the way Marik shrugged, Bakura frowned, deducing that they really hadn't had a meeting. "Oi, fine. Come on."

They disappeared into the office, Bakura resting his hand on Marik's lower back, a motion that made Malik uncomfortable once again. He'd convinced himself that their relationship was harmless but...

They were having sex. Okay, so that was probably jumping to conclusions, but with what he now knew (as little as it still was) about Bakura, it was easy to believe. His brother, though, was a different story. Marik had never been big on relationships with people; in fact, Malik had always assumed he'd never dated anyone. Then again, that didn't mean he hadn't screwed anyone, but _God_, why would anyone want that?

_Mid-Case_

As the door clicked behind him, Bakura turned to face Marik, folding his arms over his chest. "Why are you here?" He didn't get an answer, instead, he got pushed towards his desk. Once a corner was cutting into his back, he winced, and Marik seemed content with that, ceasing the pressure though not letting the man stand straight.

"Are you not happy with my visit?" Marik grinned down at Bakura now, hand moving up to fiddle with the other's tie, pulling the knot loose. Content that Marik hadn't choked him (he'd pulled that more than once), Bakura just shrugged his shoulders, watching as Marik ducked down to nibble on his neck. "You used to _always_ be happy with my visits."

Bakura let one hand slide down to Marik's hip, giving a small groan. "I'm pleased, I promise." Sliding his hand up under Marik's shirt, scratching at his skin for a moment. "Just annoyed. Shouldn't you be working?"

Marik gave him a mock pout, tongue running over the other's neck. "You should take what you can get of me." Then, realizing how that sounded, Marik glared at him. "I mean, I come over here on my only break--"

"Shut up," Bakura snapped, tilting the other's chin up and kissing him roughly. "If you're going to bitch about time, then fine. Don't talk."

The kiss was broken quickly, Marik's glare not fading. "What are you doing with my brother?"

"Pissing him off. I never knew two siblings could hate each other so much," Bakura snorted, amused with how caught up both of _his_ Ishtar boys had gotten in the situation. "I mean, really, you know your brother even better than I do. I can read people, yes, but you should already know. He's not my type, is he?"

Marik frowned bitterly at that. "You mean a complete and total whore that'll throw himself at you?"

"My, my, is that what you think of yourself?" Bakura laughed, though that was cut short when he felt Marik's hand smack across his face, nails (and they were long, damnit) scraping across his cheek. Hand reflexively moving up to touch the attacked spot, Bakura now matched the other's frown. "You fucking cut my cheek."

"Did I?" Marik asked, pulling away completely, though he was actually content when Bakura grabbed his wrist, squeezing it tightly. "Oh, so I did." He turned back to face the other, flashing him a dark grin before he moved to lick the wound, enjoying the sensational taste of blood on his tongue.

"What the hell is up with you?" As harsh as the statement was, Marik was beginning to act more and more like himself, putting Bakura at ease. Well, as ease as one could feel around Marik. "Are you honestly concerned that you're going to lose your scratching post?"

Laughing, Marik rested his hands against the desk on either side of Bakura. "I'm worried that I'll have to confront Malik, break whatever is left of his positive image of you and quite possibly, break him."

"I'm not seeing the harm," Bakura replied, smirking up at the Egyptian. "Maybe all I want is to see a bloodshed. My office is so dull, you know."

"Nn," came Marik's grunt as he glanced towards the door. "You left my file where he could find it."

That statement seemed to catch Bakura's attention more than anything else Marik had said. "Fuck, is that why you're here?" Stupid question; he knew the answer. "Nevermind. I didn't exactly expect your little brother to waltz in here as my intern. You're fine, even if he read it. I'm cryptic as fuck in my notes." The he snorted, "Well, some of my notes."

"I'm not sure I want to know what you're writing about me," Marik muttered, shaking his head. "He... didn't read it, I don't think. He'd probably have asked more questions, the annoying bastard that he is."

"So what's the issue?" Bakura inquired, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"... I want my file," Marik replied. "Whatever is in it needs to go. You and I both know we can rewrite it. I've already gotten the police reports and I took care of the witness and a bit of her family." He snickered at that, leaning in to smell Bakura, as if somehow, that made everything he was saying all the more intense.

Bakura frowned at that, "They haven't properly accused you--"

"But I did it, so I'm covering up my tracks," Marik replied, shrugging. "Hell, _we_ did it. You should be _thanking_me."

Rolling his eyes, Bakura replied, "You'd think I'd be on my knees with gratitude." The way the sarcasm dripped from his voice intrigued Marik, and the tanned man moved to bite (and it was an actual bite) at Bakura's bottom lip. "I take it you covered up your little murder as well."

"Mm, it was such a tragic accident," Marik grinned, running his tongue over Bakura's cheek, once again tasting the other's blood. He glanced up at the clock. "You've got two minutes, Bakura. What do you want to do with me?"

"I'm always surprised when you bother to ask."

End Fourth Case

**End Note: **I can't stick to one pairing to save my life. Cx


	5. Fifth Case

**Lo and Behold**  
written by Your Darling Mana

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Fifth Case

"Seven minutes and 34 seconds," Bakura breathed, glancing at his watch before looking back over at Marik and laughing. "Didn't you say we only had two minutes?"

Sliding his shirt on over his head, Marik shot the other a glare. "Yes, I did. You're lucky my boss _adores_ me and he won't mind me being a little late." He turned to face the full-length mirror that Bakura kept across from his desk (the man was a vain creature and Marik could only imagine he spent more of the day admiring himself than actually working) and straightened out his clothes. "Good-bye, Bakura." He started to the door, before turning around, "I'll be over tonight." That said, he opened the door and left, giving a passing glance to his brother, who was busy fishing through papers on his desk.

With a heavy sigh, Bakura moved to the door, leaning against the door frame. He watched Marik go, waiting for the elevator doors to close behind the other before he turned his gaze to Malik. "You look so hateful," he snickered.

Straightening a stack of papers, Malik quickly looked back down, pretending he was studying them (no matter how obvious it was that he'd been watching Bakura). "Do I?" he retorted, before he slammed the papers down and gave up, glaring at Bakura. "You tried to get me to sleep with you and you're sleeping with _him_." He doubted severely that he could have placed more hatred behind that word, though at the moment, he wasn't sure who he was more disgusted with, his brother or Bakura.

"That's a pretty harsh accusation," Bakura drawled as he sauntered over to Malik's desk, picking up the papers the other had been sorting through. "For all you know, I could have had a meeting with him -- he uses this firm."

"For what?" Malik spat before quickly shaking his head. "No, it doesn't matter. You _did_ have sex with him. I'm not an idiot." He scowled up at the other, "For one, your jacket's off and your tie..." Well, Bakura's tie was exactly off, but it was loose.

Reaching up to the tie around his neck, the pale man snickered. "... So it is," he agreed. He was so clearly amused with just how upset Malik was. "I could have just gotten hot. Temperature wise, I mean." He dropped the papers back on the other's desk before adding, "But you're right. I had sex with your brother."

It was strange how his heart fell hearing it confirmed. He'd known from the moment they stepped into the office together, but... Malik looked back down to his desk. He'd lied to himself, made himself feel as though it were alright to trust Bakura. Hell, he'd been interested in Bakura and...

Now the idea just made him sick. How could he and his brother have similar tastes?

Raising an eyebrow, Bakura studied Malik for a moment before a confident smirk crept onto his lips. "For someone who was so appalled by me moments before, you seem honestly crushed by this." He leaned in, cupping Malik's chin and tilting the other up to look at him. "You wanted me for yourself."

"No," Malik quickly replied, hitting the other's hand away from his face. "No, no. I want nothing to do with a man who's only thought is how quickly he can get into someone's pants." Was this really how Marik was spending his time? With a man that probably saw him as nothing more than an easy conquest? The idea of his brother sexually active with anyone was odd enough, but if anything, Marik had always made a point to have his standards higher than anyone else's.

Bakura pulled his hand away and rolled his eyes. He didn't believe for a moment that Malik wasn't attracted to him (though he was convinced that everyone wanted him). "Very well, do your job." He was back in his office with the door closed before Malik had ample time to respond.

Looking down at the papers before him, Malik tried to fathom why his brother would stoop to such a low level. He picked up the papers, eying them briefly though he knew that he wasn't able to truly focus. Better to look like he was doing something as opposed to doing nothing. His brother wasn't really his concern. They weren't close, so what did Malik care what he did? They hated each other, so wasn't it a point for Malik if Marik ended up hurt (if hurting Marik was possible)?

What_was_ his concern, however, was himself. Could he really work here knowing not only that his boss was the disgusting slime that was Bakura and that the disgusting slime was... being disgusting with his brother? He frowned, deciding that he really needed a better insult for the lawyer. He'd think of one later, right now he really just wanted to finish the day and head home. He hadn't told Rishid or Isis last night that he'd run into Marik, much less that his boss had hit on him, but tonight he was going to have to.

Maybe he could persuade Isis to quit using his firm. He couldn't get an emotional jab at Bakura, but he knew his sister was an important client, so he'd settle on hurting the other financially. Surely convincing her wouldn't be hard. What kind of sister would continue to use the firm of a man who had sexually harassed her baby brother?

Luckily for Malik, Bakura had left him alone for the rest of the afternoon (too busy dealing with clients), so he spent most of his time on the computer. Not productive at all, but Malik was too angry with the place, the whole lousy place, that he had no intention of working. He'd, unintentionally, managed to take out his frustration on some of his coworkers, leaving most of them to avoid them. He'd been nice enough to them yesterday -- hopefully they'd just take it as a bad mood? Still, he hoped to not have to return, so what did it matter if they thought he was horrible?

When it came time to leave, Malik had hopped up from his chair and was out the day on his way home almost immediately. He wasn't going to wait to be told good-bye; he was just elated to be in the elevator, then in the lobby, then on the street. Giving a sigh of relief, he started in the direction that led him home only to stop in his tracks. "M-Marik?" Fuck. He was stuttering.

Sure enough, his older brother was waiting for him, sitting on a stoop outside of a building a near the law firm. He climbed to his feet when he saw Malik, walking over to him when he realized the younger brother had no intention of approaching him. "I'm walking home with you."

"I can walk home on my own," Malik protested, proud of himself when he didn't stutter. Instead, he sounded as angry as he felt. "I don't need _you_ anywhere near me."

Marik ignored him, grabbing his arm and all but forcing the other to walk alongside him. "Don't be childish, Malik," he chided. Malik shot him a nasty look, trying to discern how his brother could possibly think he was being childish.

"It's not childish to be _disgusted_," Malik replied, forcing his arm away though he kept walking. "He hit on me and he's _fucking_ you." The laugh that Malik got from his brother did make him stop, however, and he glared at his brother. "Do you really think this is funny?"

Marik turned, head tilted slightly to the side, as he looked at the other. "I am amused that you are this upset, yes," he replied with a small shrug. "He's not the type of man you want to get caught up with."

"Then why are you caught up with him?" Malik snapped back, before narrowing his eyes. He almost sounded concerned there, which he wasn't. "He's someone you can be interested in but not me?"

The look that Malik received from his brother surprised him. Marik looked as if he was appalled by the idea of being 'interested' in Bakura at all. "It's something that just happened," Marik replied before he started walking again.

Malik followed him eagerly now, surprised that Marik had even told him that much. Normally, Marik kept everything to himself. "How many times has it 'just happened?'" he inquired. Trying to explain why he wanted to know, he added, "He implied that he didn't know you well yesterday, and today, you're there, screwing him in his office."

"I've known him for a while," was his answer and Malik gave up trying to press further. Marik wouldn't tell him much more, even when prompted.

"I don't want to work there anymore," Malik murmured, surprised that he actually found it easier to tell Marik that than he knew he would Isis or Rishid.

Marik looked over at him, expression unreadable as it always was to Malik, and gave Malik the advice he'd been wanting to hear, "Then don't."

"Are you telling me that because you don't want me around your little boyfriend?" Malik teased, chuckling slightly (though he quickly stopped when he saw how unimpressed his brother was with his joke). "Isis will be disappointed in me for quitting after only two days. I doubt she'll even let me do it--"

"Why are you quitting?" Marik interjected. "It's not because of the _work_, is it?"

Frowning, Malik shook his head. "No, it's not," he agreed, slightly wary that Marik was being so helpful. Did he really want Malik away from Bakura that much? "It's not even, really, because of his relationship with you." He flashed the other an awkward grin. "I mean, that does bother the hell out of me. He's got to be some kind of fucked up to want you." He sighed softly, before continuing, "Still, I... just don't feel comfortable there." Malik was a flirt beyond belief, and yesterday, he'd been more than happy to carry on with Bakura. However, he wasn't a slut. He'd had a few one night stands at parties, but he didn't make a habit of them (nor did he plan to). "I don't want to work in an environment where I know all my boss is thinking of is getting me naked."

"I'd say it's obvious that if you told Isis that, she'd more than happily let you quit," Marik noted with a small grin. "Isis would kill someone before letting them touch her baby brother."

"... if I tell her that, though, what if she does something?" Malik nibbled on his bottom lip before he added, "I don't know exactly what you see him as, but I imagine you don't want him in too much trouble?"

Marik laughed at that, shaking his head. "Truthfully, I don't care what happens to that man." Malik shot him a confused look (how could Marik _not_ care?), but his brother ignored it. If Malik couldn't keep up with him mentally, it wasn't Marik's issue. Malik had always been a little dim in his eyes; he wasn't going to slow himself down and explain every little detail to the other. As they turned down the next street, Marik looked up at the sunset, smirking slightly in anticipation of the nighttime. "So tell her whatever you want. I'm sure she can find you a new job." Then, he grinned cruelly, moving closer to Malik and wrapped his arm around the other's hips. "Maybe you could even work with me."

Malik narrowed his eyes, staring down at his brother's hand. Here it was again, the other's complete inability to comprehend the boundaries between siblings. If anything, this should have been enough of a hint that his brother had some insane sex life, but there were some things that he preferred to just not think about. "I _could_, but that sounds like a horrible idea. You might chop me up and feed me to the customers."

"If I took the time to chop you up, I'd eat you myself," Marik replied, tone nonchalant. At his side, Malik frowned, knowing his brother had more likely than not considered the scenario before. His worries were only confirmed when Marik added, "Or perhaps feed you to sister-dearest or that rat."

"Rishid's not a rat," Malik mumbled, finding it easier to say that than comment on what he'd just been told.

Marik scoffed at that, shooting a glare to someone who tried to hand him a flyer -- an advertisement for some comedy event. The person quickly retreated their hand and moved on to trying to hassle the next person.

At the end of the block, they took another turn and Malik sighed heavily. "I kind of wish I didn't live close enough to walk to work," he mumbled, pretending that Marik was the type of person who would appreciate small-talk. It also was a nice distraction as Marik hadn't moved his hand from his hip. "I'd be able to take the subway, and I wouldn't be so achy when I got home."

His brother didn't even respond, something Malik was used to. If Marik thought you'd said something half-witted, he'd ignore you entirely. It was something that irked Malik beyond belief, but there wasn't much he could do about it without getting into a full-blown fight with his brother, and even then, nothing would change.

As they reached their apartment building, Malik flashed a small smile to the doorman who returned the expression. Marik didn't acknowledge the man at all (he'd explained to Malik once that he saw the other's position, and therefore him, as something unnecessary so he felt no need to feign being polite to him). They stepped into the elevator and his brother's hand finally left his hip (and Malik actually gave an audible sigh of relief, causing his brother to smirk -- why did he take so much pleasure in making Malik uncomfortable?) to hit the button for their floor.

It was strange to be in the elevator with Marik. Malik couldn't even remember the last time they'd walked home together. Marik never bothered participating in family outings (Malik envied him there at times; it seemed he _had_ to or Isis would get upset), and it wasn't as if Malik was around him... ever. Working beside him was going to be miserable, even if they never spoke. Just knowing the man was there would have him on edge, and it wasn't like Bakura hadn't disturbed him enough. He had his fingers crossed that once he talked to Isis, she'd let him quit.

The elevator gave its pleasant ding as they reached the eighteenth floor and Malik bounded off, at their apartment door in a heartbeat and unlocking it. He opened the door, calling out, "Rishid, I'm home!"

Marik shoved him out of the way, slamming the door shut and kicking off his shoes. He pushed past the other then, and started to his room, stopped as Malik asked, "Did you have a reason for walking me home?"

"Yes," Marik answered simply, smirking darkly at him.

Malik frowned, wanting more of an explanation. "... Are you going to tell me why?"

Snickering, Marik shook his head. "No." He left it at that, walking back to his room and leaving Malik clueless (and horribly frustrated).

The younger Ishtar brother took his shoes off, setting them down beside Marik's and padding his way down the hallway, deciding he'd find Rishid first. He wasn't sure why he was embarrassed to tell Rishid what was wrong. What _was_ wrong though? Would he really have been that upset by Bakura if the man hadn't been... whatever he was doing with his brother? It certainly would have made things easier.

Shuffling his socks on the carpeted floor, Malik decided he was just unlucky. An attractive older man had hit on him. It was only natural that said attractive older man was involved with his brother in some horribly awkward way. No, Malik hadn't wanted to be used for sex, but like any hopeless teenager, he hadn't been totally opposed to the idea of making Bakura interested in him for something more.

To his disappointment, Rishid wasn't in his room. Malik hadn't heard him in the kitchen, so it was safe to assume that he wasn't home. That meant he was alone in the apartment with his brother, a fact that made him queasy no matter how "healthy" and "stable" they were saying Marik was now. Still, Marik had already disappeared into his room and he rarely came out to mingle with the family afterwards.

With that thought, Malik ducked into his own bedroom, making his way to his computer. He might as well fool around online until Rishid or Isis got home; he had no intention of touching his homework.

End Fifth Case

**End Note:** Next chapter is Marik-centered with psychoshipping. And maybe some lemon? xO


End file.
